


In Perfect Harmony

by Daegaer



Category: Saiyuki, Weiss Kreuz
Genre: Assassins, Crossover, Gen, Humour, song contests, travellers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-07
Updated: 2010-10-07
Packaged: 2017-10-12 12:05:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daegaer/pseuds/Daegaer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two groups of young men find themselves in a competition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Perfect Harmony

"No! No, no, no, no, no," Hakkai said with unaccustomed panic. "I can't! Please, really I can't."

Sanzo relished the sight. "Too bad," he said. " _Someone_ maxed out my card on luxury cat litter, and we have to pay for our dinner somehow."

"Jeep doesn't like the cheap kind of litter!" Hakkai said, looking like he was considering clinging to Sanzo in supplication. "The cheap stuff makes the rooms stink and Goyjo stays awake whinging and smoking all night! And I think you'll find that _other_ people put far more expensive purchases on the card! Goku steals it all the time when you're asleep! Who did you think ordered the pocky and pocky-themed accessories from Amazon.jp?"

He actually sank to his knees and buried his face in the hem of Sanzo's robe. He was almost crying. It was a beautiful sight, Sanzo thought, putting his foot on Hakkai's shoulder and pushing him over, and one to be relished.

"Yeah," he said. "That's why you're _all_ doing this. Get to the front of the room, Hakkai."

Hakkai dragged himself to the front of the room, standing with bowed head and shaking shoulders. Sanzo got himself a table near the front and watched the various competitors in the karaoke whisper amongst themselves. He lit his last cigarette and savoured it. First prize would provide accommodation and food _and_ provide a much needed object lesson in moderation in theft of the credit card. Gojyo smoothed down his hair and gave the whole room a cocky smile. Goku gave Sanzo a thumbs-up. Hakkai blew his nose and tried not to look terrified.

"Let's welcome our first competitors!" the compere said cheerfully. "Four young men breaking their journey here toni--"

Sanzo sat upright, glaring at Gojyo. The damn kappa needn't think _he_ was going to sing -- he frowned as the four guys in the corner pushed their way past Goku and grabbed the microphones. A brown-haired guy who looked as friendly and harmless as Hakkai on a bad day, a tall blond who eyed up half the room, a blond kid who looked about the same age as Goku, give or take five hundred years and a sulky, bad-attitude half-youkai who sneered at Gojyo and snapped some instruction to the girl by the karaoke machine. The music started and they began singing with enthusiasm and a depressing ability to stay in tune and harmonise.

"Is he a kappa too?" Goku said loudly. "Ow!" he added as Gojyo smacked the back of his head.

Hakkai tried creeping back, dragging the others with him. "They can sing!" he whimpered to Sanzo. "I'll just go -- ow!"

Sanzo folded the fan away. Hakkai _must_ be unsettled, he thought. Usually he managed to slide away before the blow connected. The four singers ended with a flourish and complacently accepted the declarations of love from all the girls and some of the men in the room. A pair of lacy knickers exactly the same shade as the lead singer's hair were tossed towards them, to be snagged from mid-air by the tall blond with a bit of fancy wire-flicking.

"We're doomed!" Hakkai moaned.

"He's not as pretty as he thinks he is," Gojyo snarled.

"Will second prize feed us all?" Goku asked.

Sanzo frowned at their competition. The other guys were buoyed up and clearly of the opinion they'd already won. The youkai met his eyes for the merest of instants and a tiny, almost imperceptible flicker crossed his face. Sanzo scowled. It seemed violet eyes weren't the only thing they had in common. That was how he laughed too. He ground out the cigarette and stood. Years of tobacco had given him a deeper singing voice than that bastard, he thought, and he was good for a lot more than chanting in temples.

"You're right," he snapped. "He's _not_ as pretty as he thinks he is. Come on, let's wipe the floor with them." This was war, he thought, snatching the microphone and sweeping the crowd with a contemptuous glare.

Beside, he was sure he could do better than _one_ flung pair of knickers.


End file.
